


Why Would Anybody Live Here?

by w0lf0fshad0w



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Australian Summer is a horrible thing, Gen, Sunburn and heat stroke aren't fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 16:51:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1312174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w0lf0fshad0w/pseuds/w0lf0fshad0w
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Natasha are on a mission in Australia in the middle of summer. It's safe to say they weren't expecting the heatwave, or the lack of air-conditioning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Would Anybody Live Here?

"Why? Why would people live here?" Clint moaned as if he was in serious pain. He was somewhere behind her and she had no idea why he was complaining so much. Well, that wasn’t completely true, she knew why, she just didn’t think that complaining was going to help anything.

"Shut up Clint," Natasha said calmly, eyes still fixed to the screens she was monitoring.

"I can’t shut up, it’s too hot to shut up, it’s too hot to talk too. It’s too hot to think ‘Tasha,” Clint complained, possibly even louder and more obnoxiously than last time, “it’s a hundred and fifteen god damned degrees… in the shade! That’s just unholy. I’ve been on missions in the middle of the desert where it wasn’t this hot.”

“Clint, you can either shut up or I can shut you up,” she threatened blandly, finally turning to look at him and only just holding back her laughter. At some point she had heard him moving the fans around, but this wasn’t what she was expecting. With the exception of the one oscillating, short-necked fan he had kept mostly pointed at her and the bank of monitors on the wall every single fan in their small safe house was arranged in a rough circle in the middle of the room. This circle was, coincidentally, directly under the ceiling fan that spun as fast as possible and at a slightly worrying angle, from the low roof. In the middle of it, with just enough room to roll over as he was currently doing, was Clint. He had stripped down to some truly terrible purple boxer shorts and seemed to be intermittently rolling from one side to another to get to cooler parts of the floor and splashing himself with water from a half-filled bucket near his head.

“Really?” she asked, amusement and exasperation seeping into her voice, causing the archer to crack open an eye to shoot her a look that was more exhausted than anything else.

“Yes, really,” he replied grumpily, “I feel like I’m actually cooking here and this was your idea. ‘It’ll be an easy mission’ you said, ‘it’s just a week of surveillance’ you said, ‘what could go wrong?’ you said. This, this could go wrong. You didn’t think to check if there was going to be a heatwave?”

“I never realised how much of a brat you could be,” Natasha commented, mostly to see the look of flustered indignation cross his face before she turned back to the monitors, “and I don’t appreciate you being naked in the middle of the floor by the way,” she added, just to irritate him further. She had been putting up with his whining for two days now, and the heat was expected to last at least another three. It was possible that the heat was getting to her as well, she just didn’t feel the need to vocalise it like her partner did. In fact, Natasha had no idea why people tolerated this weather, but she also felt that she had more reason to complain than Clint did; the first day they had been there she had spent most of the day outside setting up the cameras and checking the signals and had come home sporting a fairly impressive sunburn that still stung if she moved too much.

Natasha had been about to turn around and tell him to take his shift watching the monitors when a piece of cloth settled over her head. Her hand, when she went to pull the offending cloth away, came back holding crumpled purple cotton while Clint laughed behind her.

“Now I’m naked,” he said, but he barely had the energy to put any effort into sounding cocky or smug like she would have expected, “just in case you were wondering what the difference was.”

Natasha might have belatedly realised that he had protested the fact that she said he was naked in the middle of the floor while she was resisting the urge to scratch at her now peeling sunburn. She also decided that she could definitely watch the monitors for a little longer.


End file.
